Author Information
I meant to write you about the poppies.
I meant to write you about the poppies.
Seductive scarlet mosquitoes swarming,
Biting fields, train tracks, sidewalk cracks,
A passionate rash across Poland.
If I sit still, they grow from my
Sweat glands, tear ducts, scalp.
Mornings I pull opiate petals from my mouth,
Spit the vermilion bitterness of your
Romantic interests,
Sprouting on my skin
Without my permission.
Your prolific flattery grows red in a ditch.
I itch with insectile urges
A beautiful botanical red plague.
I love it. Poppies symbolize
I love it. Poppies symbolize sleep and death. They used to paint them into the Passion of the Christ to symbolize death and the blood of christ.